


Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie

by TashanaAmbrosia



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: AU - completely, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Snowed In, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, blonds and wine, four people snowed into a cabin, holiday AU that no one asked for and yet, holiday fluff, snarky Jessica and her feelings, words with friends somehow involved in this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashanaAmbrosia/pseuds/TashanaAmbrosia
Summary: So stop me if you heard this one before... two people, who aren't big on Christmas rent a cabin in the mountains to get out of the city, but the cabin's been double booked with two people looking to enjoy the holiday. Fluffy-silly Hallmark level of the snowed-in troupe.





	Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie

**Author's Note:**

> AU - the characters in an another world. I think Karen and Frank sound solid, but I'm not so sure about Jessica and Trish. Just a fun holiday piece. Nothing serious at all.

 

**Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie**

 

The truck lurched as the right side tires dropped into a pothole and Jessica’s head slammed against the glass. “Geeze Castle, are you trying to give me a freaking concussion?”

Frank shook his head, “Didn’t even realize you were sleepin’, Jones. Might as well stay awake we’ll be at this place in about five minutes.”

“Finally; even with the drive, I think this is the best plan you’ve had in a long time.” She squinted as she looked out the window. “How much snow did they get up here?”

“About two feet or so and we’re supposed to get another two before tomorrow night. So once we get to this cabin we’re gonna be stuck there for a few days.”

“Music to my ears. If we can’t get out then no one can get in. It’ll be nice not to have to deal with all the holiday horseshit.” Jessica stretched in her seat. “As long as you brought the booze that’s all I need.”

“I got your back, Jones, don’t sweat it.” He corrected the truck as it fishtailed slightly. “No one going in or out in this shit-storm.”

“Is there any cell service up here?” She snagged her coffee cup and sipped from it, the bitter black liquid warming her a bit.

He chuckled, “Guy who owns it said as long as there’s power there’s decent wifi. So you’ll be able to chat with your _girlfriend_.”

“ _She’s_ not my girlfriend.” Jessica growled, “I just play that damn word game with her that Micro’s wife got us all playing. And what the hell does it matter? She just started the damn chat thing with me first, because of the stupid name I picked.”

“You could have let the app pick you a name.”

“It did and it was, Hero6934, no thank you. I just typed WhiskeyOverWine and it was completely random she started playing with me. And _she_ started chatting with me, not the other way around.”

“But you’ve been chattin’ her up for three months. You being social voluntarily… that says something.” He sipped from his own coffee cup.

“Says that you’re too damn nosey. Stay out of it.”

“Alright, alright, easy does it.” He shoved her shoulder. “You do you, Jones, just trying to help you get some _Christmas cheer._ ”

“The only cheer I need is in liquid form and you’re one to talk; you’re celibate as a monk.”

He grunted and corrected the truck again.

“Thought that would shut you up.” She lifted her coffee cup, “Here’s to a quiet no BS Christmas.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

 

.:.

 

“Oh my god those smell amazing. How did you have time to make cookie batter and get them in the oven in the forty minutes I was in the tub?” Trish walker was toweling her hair as she walked into the cabin’s kitchen, where Karen Page was pulling a cookie sheet from the oven.

The other blond laughed, “I didn’t; Rosie from accounting found out that I was going on this trip and made me cookie dough for my secret Santa gift. It was in the cooler. How’s the tub?”

“A gift from God.” Trish pulled the open bottle of wine from the fridge and motioned to Karen’s glass, “You want me to top you off?”

“Please.” Karen smiled and looked at the living room, “You think the tree’s too much?”

“No! This is exactly the Christmas I’ve wanted since I was a little girl: a big tree that I got to decorate myself, all the snow outside, the music, and a good friend to watch cheesy holiday movies with.” Trish beamed at her friend, “I still can’t believe Ellison let you off the hook.”

“I kept bringing him stories about how the holidays are nothing but profiteering markers for big corporations. After the fifth one, I got the, ‘Karen, I’ll give you this holiday off if when you come back your off your moral high horse’ speech.” She laughed as Trish’s phone chirped out and she picked it up.

“Can I see it?” Trish held out her hand.

Karen unlocked the screen, “We agreed that I have your phone and you have mine so we actually enjoy this weekend. I just need to make sure it isn’t…” Karen snickered as she teased, “It’s your Words-With-Friends _friend_.”

“Give it over.” Trish dashed around the kitchen island and snagged the phone away from Karen. “Looks like she had the same holiday plans we did, spending the weekend in a cabin with her friend to get out of the city.”

Karen sipped from her wine glass, “You should have invited her. I could have stayed in the city; this could have been your own little cheesy holiday movie.”

“Stop. You’re absolutely ridiculous. I don’t even really know her or if she’d be interested in me or if I’d be interested in her if we were face to face.” Trish bit her lip as she looked at her phone playing her word and typed a message to the other player.

Karen bumped her with her hip, “Lip bite.”

“Huh?”

“You bite your lip like that when you’re interested in someone and you do it every time you answer her.” Karen teased, “I couldn’t write a twist of fate better. You hit pick a random opponent and get the reverse name of your WineOverWhiskey name and then she’s sarcastic as hell when you chatted her up. It’s like a classic cheesy holiday movie… Oh like You’ve Got Mail!”

“We’re so not watching that one.” Trish handed her phone back to Karen, “I don’t know what your thing is with Meg Ryan.”

“She’s my girl-crush. Everyone has one. Yours just happens to have an unknown face.” Karen opened the fridge, “I don’t feel like cooking past finish up those gingerbread cookies. You want to crackers and cheese it tonight?”

“Yes. As long as there’s more wine.”

“I brought ten bottles of wine and fifth of whiskey in case we want to get crazy. I’m planning on being, at minimum, moderately buzzed most of this weekend.” Karen shooed Trish away from the kitchen, “Pick a movie. I’ll get it around while I finish the cookies.”

Trish ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass, “She might not even like women like that. Like… I mean… you know what I mean.”

“Maybe you should ask.” Karen set the cheese on the cutting board and started looking for a knife. “What could hurt to ask? Then you’d know at least, or is that what you’re afraid of? Her being interested.” She accepted the knife that Trish found in one of the drawers.

“It would just be complicated.” Trish took a long gulp of her wine, “ _If_ she was interested and _if_ something started I’m in the spotlight for something that I don’t feel like I am. I can read the headlines now: former child-star now a lesbian. I don’t want to be the representation of something I’m not.”

“What do you consider yourself?” Karen started looking for a plate to put the food on.

Trish opened the crackers, “I’ve had good, meaningful relationships with men, so I guess…I mean I’m attracted to the connection that I feel to her not her gender. I feel more bisexual then anything and…” She sighed and finished off her glass of wine, purposefully ignoring Karen’s smirk. “There’s not a lot of media personalities that are openly bisexual, which means I’d be a representative for a group of people and I don’t think I’m good…”

Karen hugged Trish suddenly, cutting off her potentially self-destructive rant, “I think a successful child-actress turned self-made radio personality in New York is a great personality for people to look up to. The only person you really have to worry about is your mother.”

“Don’t remind me.” Trish groaned, before hugging her friend back. “Thank you, Karen, really.”

“No problem. Now go pick a movie, I put in my Netflix login while you were soaking.”

Trish refilled her wine glass and grabbed the remote, noting the last show in the queue with a snort.

“What now?” Karen opened the box of crackers. “I’m sorry it’s not all national geographic docs and rom-coms.”

“Oh it’s not that, it’s the fact that Sense8 is the last thing you watched, again.”

Karen rinsed off the knife before putting in the sink, “I like Wolfgang.”

“You and your murder-cupcakes.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve got a type, Karen, and it’s dark and dangerous with that heart of gold.”

“Listen…” Karen trailed off as lights flashed in the driveway.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here.”

 

.:.

 

“No I don’t want a fucking refund. I want to be the only person in this cabin that I paid for _in advance!_  You double booked it, ‘cause the Barbie twins batted their eyelashes and it’s bullshit.” Jessica was snarling into the phone as Frank winced, glancing back at the unimpressed blonds.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry, she doesn’t really deal with…with um…”

“Human error? A simple mistake? Because we paid in advance for this cabin as well and over the phone, so the eyelashes were not a factor.” Karen folded her arms over her chest.

Frank chuckled and ignored the look Jones shot him as she stomped out onto the porch, slamming the door behind her. “Sorry, we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. She’s Jessica Jones and I’m Frank Castle.”

The other blond offered her hand first, “I’m Trish Walker and this is Karen Page. We really had no idea that you and your girlfriend…”

“Whoa, No. Jones and I are partners. We work at a security firm together.” He corrected quickly.

“Security firm?” Karen questioned.

“Yes, Ma’am. Anvil Security based out of Manhattan.” He pulled the stocking cap off his head. “I think I can talk her into leaving, but the road up here was rough. Anyway, I could trouble you for a cup of coffee.”

“I can start a pot.” Trish offered, making her way into the kitchen.

“Appreciate it.” He nodded to Trish.

Karen shook her head, “Why don’t you relax for a bit? Warm up at least while it’s brewing.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He stomped off his boots before unlacing them.

“What branch?”

“Hmm?”

“What branch of the military did you serve in? You’re ‘Ma’am’ is too second nature and you don’t sound southern, so you’ve got to be ex-military.” She was glad she sounded casual because the black t-shirt he was wearing was practically painted on him.

“Guilty as charged. I was in the Marines, but I guess I should have known better then try to get something by the woman who wrote ‘Everyday Heroes’.” He hung up his coat on one of the free hooks on the wall.

Karen felt herself blush; _damn-it she was not a high schooler; she was grown adult woman with an apartment in New York and a regular column in a successful paper_. “You’ve read my work?”

“Loyal subscriber to The Bulletin, Miss Page.” He had this half-smile and she was sure that if he’d been wearing a ball cap he would have tipped it at her.

_Maybe she did have a thing for manners?_ Karen offered her hand to him. “Karen’s fine.”

“Karen then.” He shook her hand back and hers felt embarrassingly small, cool, and dainty in comparison to the heat and calluses of his larger one. “Jones, is gonna be damned embarrassed when she gets back in here and figures out who you are, Miss Walker.” He craned his neck to catch Trish’s eye.

“Oh, Trish is fine, Frank. But why would she be embarrassed?” Trish arched her eyebrow.

“Outburst aside. She’s quite a fan of your Trish Talk show. We listen to it every day, she’s very insistent about it.” He sniffed the air and glanced around the open room. “Sorry about interrupting your Christmas together.”

“Oh, we’re just ducking all our media personality responsibilities together. Karen and I have been best friends since college.” Trish volunteered quickly as Karen shot her a look at that would have sent comic book villains running for the hills.

“Could you excuse us, Frank?” Karen grabbed Trish’s arm and dragged her into the hallway. “What are you doing?!?” She hissed at her friend.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” Trish smirked and failed miserably to feign innocence. “Oh come on he’s so your type: dark, dangerous, and military manners. You practically drooled when he called you Miss Page.”

“I did not.” Karen snipped back.

Trish rolled her eyes, “Let’s just be friendly. They aren’t gonna be here long. But for god-sakes get his number.”

“Cause he strikes me as such a phone guy.”

“I bet he could give good phone with that low gravel he’s got.” Trish quickstepped her way back into the kitchen with Karen hot on her heels. “So Frank, how about a drink before that coffee?” Trish asked as Jessica let herself back into the cabin, “You strike me as a whiskey over wine kinda guy.”

Jessica’s eyes widened and Frank shot his partner a look before he answered Trish, “Much as it would be appreciated. Best not since we’re gonna be driving back I have a feeling.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Jessica was still eying Trish cautiously as she explained. “He’s refunding _both_ of us, but we’re not going anywhere. The storm closed the road. We’re here until Monday, at least.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, “So I guess we’re…” She looked around the cabin, “I just need somewhere to lay down.”

“Jones.” Frank clipped.

“What? I’m freaking tired and the whole point of this weekend was to rest. I just want a bottle of my whiskey and a bed.” Jessica rubbed her temples.

“Well, there are three bedrooms. Trish and I can share and you two can have the other two.” Karen volunteered.

“Sure.” “No.” Jessica and Frank responded respectively. Frank seemed to recover quicker, “I’m not putting either of you ladies out of a bed. I can sleep out here on the couch, no trouble.”

Karen was going to protest, but Jessica cut her off, “Good plan; I’m gonna grab my stuff. I’m assuming one of the rooms is empty.” She marched out the door.

“I’ll go help her. Sorry, I think I woke her up from her nap too soon.” He smirked at Karen who let out a little laugh as he slipped on his boots and coat to help his friend.

“Maybe he could bunk with you.” Trish bumped Karen with her hip.

“You need to get yourself laid and stop worrying about me.” Karen huffed.

 

.:.

 

Frank walked around the back of the truck and caught Jessica’s arm, “Can you cool down some?”

She took a swig from a bottle of whiskey and sighed, “Yeah. It’s like Martha Stewart’s living room in there. I just wanted to get away from all the artificial holiday cheer shit.”

“For what it’s worth, I think those two actually have the Christmas spirit.”

“Spirits is more like it. I saw two empty bottles of wine.”

He snatched the fifth from her and took a swig, “Then they should be your kind of company, even if they are wine over whiskey kinda girls.”

“Caught that huh?” Jessica made a face.

“I did. Coincidence?” He offered.

She pulled her bag out of the back of the truck and yanked the cooler to the edge of the tailgate. “This ain’t Hallmark, Castle. That whole meeting-by-fate shit doesn’t happen.”

Frank shouldered his bag and helped her with the cooler. “Let’s throw this on the back porch. That’ll keep the alcohol cold enough and I’ll get the food inside while you take a nap.”

“Shut-it.” They stumbled in the deepening snow, “You know that Karen’s kinda cute.”

He stopped dead in his tracks so suddenly that it jerked Jessica back towards him since they were at either end of the cooler. “There a point to that statement?”

“She’s your type.”

“Oh is she now? You know my type.”

“I do.” Jessica cocked her eyebrow at him, “Doe-eyes, take no shit, and legs for days, hell if she’s pro-gun, I’ll bet you an even hundred you don’t sleep on the couch alone.”

He grunted, “I shoulda told them you were my girlfriend.”

Jessica laughed out loud, “You couldn’t handle me in the sack, Castle.”

“Keep it moving, Jones. You need to finish your damn nap so you can act civil.”

“You need to get laid, man.” She barked out a laugh as she started walking again.

 

.:.

 

Karen was sitting on the couch with Frank, since Trish had decided, very vocally, that she wanted the recliner. She was going to kill her friend for this later. Jessica had retreated upstairs with a bottle of whiskey and her bag over her shoulder stating that a shower, half of that bottle, and a nap were her plans for the night. The snow was still coming down heavy, in fact, Frank had gone out and shoveled the patio earlier and brought in firewood, but his footprints were hardly visible now. “The Holiday” was just finishing up and if the romantic comedy bothered Frank he didn’t say anything, but he had started a pot of chili on the stove and Karen felt her stomach growl as the smell of it filled the air. She should have slowed down on the wine, she was buzzed and wine always wound her up. Trish’s phone went off in her pocket and she pulled it out, glancing at it before tossing it to her friend.

Frank said nothing, but shot Karen a questioning look, “I have her phone and she has mine, it’s so we don’t work over this weekend.”

“But she gets it back…” Frank started to stay something, but Trish leaped up from the recliner and raced up the stairs without a word to either of the pair sitting on the couch. “Did I miss something?”

Karen was still looking behind the couch, “I have no idea. It was just an alert from this word game she’s been playing. She’s been chatting with this other player…”

“Whiskey over wine.” Frank offered.

Karen turned back to Frank sharply, “How did you know that?”

He let out a real laugh, a genuine one, and it made Karen smile. He had a good laugh. “That’s Jessica’s screen name.”

Karen slapped her hands over her mouth. “You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. Been telling her to try and meet up with that girl for weeks.” He pushed off the couch and went to check the chili.

Karen scrambled up behind him. “So Jessica is…” She motioned with her hands, it felt so inappropriate to question someone’s sexuality without them being present.

“Never really asked, but I know that she actually smiles when she’s chatting with your friend and she doesn’t do that too often.” Frank stirred the chili and tasted it, before offering the spoon to Karen, “Whatcha think?”

It was beyond good, Karen nodded to him. “It’s great. Did you learn to cook when you were in the service?”

“I was married once before.” He opened the cupboard and pulled down a pair of bowls.

“It didn’t work out?” Karen watched him dish out the chili, handing her a bowl and glancing around for utensils, “Drawer to the left of the sink.”

“Thank you.” He was quiet. He handed her a spoon wordlessly and took a bite of his own chili before admitting softly, “Lost her and the rest of my family to a drunk driver a few years ago.”

“Oh Frank, I’m so sorry.” Before she could stop herself she covered his hand with hers.

He shrugged, “It is what it is. I miss them every day, but can’t quit living not how life works. Sorry, an awful somber thing to bring up around this time of year.”

“I’m a good listener.” She offered.

“Bet you are.” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

“Can I have one of those?” She requested.

Frank pulled out a second bottle and popped the caps off, before handing her one, “Not a wine girl either?”

“It’ll do in a pinch.” She smiled taking a drink. “Truth be told Trish likes wine more than I do, but fewer bottles to pack if we stuck with wine.”

“I can drink to that.” He clinked his bottle to hers and they settled into a comfortable silence as they ate their chili. “Wonder how they’re getting along up there.”

Karen nearly snorted out the drink of beer she’d just taken. “You’re terrible.”

He shrugged, “Been accused of that a time or two. Let’s find another movie to torture me with.”

“You should pick the next one, less torture for you that way.”

“Fair enough. I’ll go outside, grab a couple more logs for the fire. You wanna grab us another pair of beers for after we finish these?” He shouldered his coat on and slipped back into his boots.

“Okay.” Karen popped the caps off the pair of beers and sat down on the couch scrolling through the holiday movie selections. She was just thinking Frank had been gone too long when the back door opened again. “I was starting to think you froze… holy shit! Frank?”

“It’s nothing; log slipped and hit me in the head, just a little blood.” He set the logs by the fireplace and slumped down on the couch.

“There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom, hang on.” Karen retrieved it and sat on the couch next to Frank, turning his chin so they were facing each other.

“It’s fi..”

“Just let me help.” Karen hushed him, wiping the alcohol pad over the cut and Frank winced. “Why is it that all the tough guys don’t mind the pain of injury, but whine about the treatment?”

His dark brown eyes were fixed on her as she worked. “It’s the adrenalin. Don’t feel it until after.” He smirked up at her. “That and we like the sympathy from a pretty girl.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Not if it’s not working.” He traced the side of her face with his finger, “I’m a bit out of practice.”

“I think you’re doing fine. The blood was a little extreme, I think being snowed in, in a cabin was enough.” She shifted and set the used cleaning pad on top of the first aid kit. She let Frank frame the side of her face with his hand and turn her back to face him. She was too buzzed for this, but she couldn't bring herself to care. There was something about the nervousness of his flirtation that made it even more irresistible.

“All part of the master plan, Miss Page.” He pulled her to him but paused for a moment waiting for her nod, before he claimed her mouth.

Claimed was an understatement. He tasted like chili and beer and heat… _How does someone taste like heat_? He cupped the back of her head deepened their kiss as she gripped at his forearms. She pulled herself over his lap and moaned into his mouth, he was already hard under her. His hands were strong, even if they were shaking a bit as he slipped them under her top, growling as he found her bare flesh.

“How are you so damn soft? We should…I mean I should…” He stuttered as his mouth found her neck and his free hand massaged down the line of her spine.

“My bedroom’s on the other side of the living room.”  She breathed out into his hair. She barely finished her sentence when he stood up with her like she weighed nothing. She tightened her legs around his middle and moaned as he bumped her back into the door.

“Sorry.” He apologized.

“I’m good. Just don’t stop.” She pleaded as he fumbled the door opened and slammed it closed behind them.

 

.:.

 

Jessica was on her back in the very soft bed, hair braided, but still wet from her shower. She took a long draw from her bottle of whiskey. Content to let Frank entertain the other two downstairs, especially since she’d made an asshole of herself in front of something she actually respected. Trish Walker was prettier in person then she was in her pictures and it made Jessica’s hands twitch. She wasn’t this girl, she didn’t pine, ever. If she wanted to get laid, she went and found someone, scratched that itch and moved on, she didn’t ache for tall blonds with sparkling eyes and joyful laughs.

She groaned and picked up her phone, noticing that her favorite player and taken her turn. The embedded chat message:

**WineOverWhiskey: I think you’re gonna have to concede this one. I’ve got it in the bag. If I’m slow to respond, I actually did go away for the weekend with my friend and the receptions not the greatest**.

**WhiskeyOverWine: I’m in the same boat. That cabin I rented with my partner from work is in the middle of a blizzard and just my luck it’s double booked with a pair of blonds who are all holiday happy like you. Craziest thing one of them is Trish from Trish Talk.**

She played her word, but this game was a lost cause there was no way that she was gonna pull off a comeback from this deficit. She closed her eyes and had just started to relax when her door went flying open.

“You ever heard of knocking?” Jessica threw a blanket over her bare legs since she was just in a t-shirt and underwear.

“Is this you?” Trish’s eyes were wild as she held her own phone to Jessica’s face.

Jessica blinked focusing on the screen, “Is what m…holy shit!” She was staring the text she’d just sent. Her dark eyes darted from the screen the blond, who was clearly as surprised as she was.

“You didn’t know this was me?”

Jessica put her hands on her hips, “How could I possibly know that was you?!? And for the record I don’t even know you, we just met. Could you turn around so I could put on some damn pants?”

“Right sorry.” Trish turned her back to the other woman and listened to Jessica rustle through her bag. “You know we’ve been talking for months.”

“Texts are just texts. Anyone can make stuff up on the internet.” She grumbled.

Trish pocketed her phone and fidgeted with her hands. “I wasn’t making any of that stuff up. Were you?”

“No. I’m not really a make shit up kinda person. What you see, er read I guess; is what you get.” Jessica zipped her jeans and flopped back on the bed. “You’re good.”

“Sorry about barging in. The situation just took me off guard; it’s kinda unbelievable when you think about it. What are the odds?” Trish turned around and looked around the comfortable little room. “Us both ending up here at the same time.”

Jessica shifted her legs on the bed, “You can sit if you want.” She took a long swig from her whiskey suddenly feeling like she needed it.

“Thanks. So you run away from the holiday and get stuck with me, who is all happy about it.” Trish sat down on the foot of the bed and picked absent-mindedly at the quilt on the bed.

“You’re not so bad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but if you start singing carols I’m gonna walk out on the porch and voluntarily freeze to death.” Jessica snorted.

Trish arched her eyebrow, “You don’t strike me as the suicidal type.”

Jessica chuckled, “I’m not, but don’t ask my liver, it’ll tell you a different story. This the one I was telling you about, the one that’s got honey in it.” She offered the bottle to Trish. “If you don’t mind my germs.”

“I don’t.” Trish uncorked the bottle and took a drink coughing slightly. “That’s strong.”

“It’s decent.”

“Remind me to have Karen write your eulogy when your liver calls it quits.” Trish chuckled.

Jessica took another drink from the bottle, “You know all of my secrets.”

“Oh do I?” The blond wondered aloud.

“All the ones that matter.” Jessica glanced up and found Trish staring at her it made her warm all over and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. So she started to ramble and she didn’t normally ramble, but it was just… “I mean I don’t talk a lot, don’t really have a lot to say normally, and I’m not a feelings person. That touchy-feely crap is a bunch of bullshit, not that I don’t feel anything and I enjoyed chatting with you. I don’t normally connect with people and it’s weird to say we have a connection because we’ve never been in the same room until a few hours ago. I just don’t want you to feel like you need…”

Trish was suddenly in her space pressing her lips to hers, soft and chase, just enough to stop her runaway mouth. “I like you too.”

Jessica huffed, but she kissed her back but wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands until Trish tangled her hands in Jessica’s dark hair and deepened the kiss. It was different kissing her, the other woman was soft, but she had a faint bite from whiskey on her tongue. Despite the oddity and suddenness of all of this, it felt good, it felt like this was how it was supposed to be. _Oh god, she was turning into a sap from a couple of kisses; fuck her sideways._

There was a bang and both women jumped. Jessica snickered, “That’s Castle; him and your friend must be getting along.”

Trish felt her cheeks get hot, “Really?”

“Educated guess that he’s a wall guy.” Jessica rolled her eyes.

“What about you? What kind of gal are you?” Trish bit down on her lip.

“I mean you’ve already got me in bed.”

 

.:.

 

“How is it that I’m the only one who knows how to cook out of the four of us?” Frank questioned as he fried the eggs in the pan.

Jessica snorted from the couch where she was sitting with Trish leaning against her, “Trying to imply it’s woman’s work?”

“No Jones, I’m saying that by the law of averages more than one of us should know how to cook.” He smiled at Karen, who was perched on the kitchen island clutching a coffee cup. She held it out to him and he took a sip before handing it back. “How do you survive on a daily basis?”

“Takeout.” Came the answer from the three women.

He shook his head and went back to what he was doing. He glanced up at Jones who was absent-mindedly running her finger down Trish’s arm as the two watched the sappy holiday movie.

“What are you thinking?” Karen questioned drawing his attention back to her.

He clicked off the stove and moved into her space, a smile on his face as he stole a kiss from her. “Merry Christmas, Miss Page.”

She rolled her eyes but kissed him back. “Merry Christmas, Frank.”

“No sex in the kitchen, I’m gonna eat in there later,” Jessica warned.

“Jess!”


End file.
